


First kisses

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, First Kisses, I only write fluff honestly, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 04:59:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9532508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A collection of possible first kisses between John and Sherlock





	

John stopped in his tracks.  
“Shit,” he said to himself, his actions that morning running through his mind on a constant loop.

Their case had run on very late last night and John was tired when he went to bed. He’d slept through his alarm and Sherlock wandering around the flat had been the first thing that woke him. Once he’d seen the time he’d jumped out of bed, thrown on his clothes and ran downstairs to the bathroom. He passed Sherlock in his dressing gown on the way up the stairs.  
“I wondered why you weren’t up, I was going to wake you,” said Sherlock simply, pointing to John’s bedroom door.  
John had already rushed passed him however shouting about being late, muttering something else about stupid alarms. He went into the bathroom, and cleaned his teeth. Sherlock came back downstairs, returning to the living where noticed John’s coat on the back of his armchair. He picked up the coat, but when he made it to the hall, John was already at the top of the stairs.  
“Your coat?” Sherlock said, holding John’s out to him.  
“Yeah, of course,” said John, turning back and walking over to Sherlock.  
He had taken the coat and pressed a quick kiss to Sherlock’s lips before running back down the stairs and out the door. 

“Shit,” said John again. He’d kissed Sherlock. He saw his bus approaching its stop further up the road though, so dismissed it and broke into a run.

A GP had a considerable amount of unoccupied time, even in a full day of appointments. John tried to keep busy between patients, but couldn’t help his mind straying to what he’d done this morning. Why had he done it? People always thought they were involved somehow, and John had to admit they lived a fairly domestic life. They had a shared bank account, and now he thought about it, that was more committed than any relationship he’d had before. But this wasn’t a relationship after all. Perhaps with so many people assuming it, John had accidentally fell into the habits of a couple. He’d been in a rush this morning, he hadn’t been thinking, that’s all. A knock on the door interrupted his thinking.  
“Come in,” he said, and the patient entered.

He decided to take a short walk around the park outside the surgery during his lunch. To clear his head. Although he later admitted it had done much the opposite. What did it even mean? He loved and cared about Sherlock more than anyone else in his life, but he was his best friend. Sherlock had said much the same and that’s all they were. Kissing the man he loved most in the world seems quite reasonable when you put it like that. It’s not gay though. He didn’t like men like that. He didn’t want to shag Sherlock; he hadn’t even ever thought about him in that way. Except that one time in a dream, but he couldn’t control his dreams. And that wasn’t related to this - he shouldn’t be thinking about that. He was straight anyway so that couldn’t be what this was. He was just in a rush, he wasn’t thinking, that’s all.

What was Sherlock going to say though? He knew the man wasn’t interested in romantic attachment. He’d turned down the advances of Irene Adler and was “married to his work” as he always said. That was good, he would probably understand if he explained everything. It didn’t need to make their friendship uncomfortable, but John felt as though he’d done some irreparable damage.

The afternoon passed with more patients between more waves of embarrassment. His walk home was the tensest he’d been in his life, outside of being in real danger. He had been relatively optimistic about Sherlock’s reaction during the day but by the time he was unlocking the front door he had convinced himself he would be moving out of 221B. He made his way upstairs. Normally he would call out to Sherlock when he came in (“Honey, I’m home” he thought sarcastically. Why were they so domestic anyway?). Instead he stayed quiet, delaying the inevitable confrontation. He came upstairs and sat at the kitchen table, his fingers tapping on the table nervously. He heard Sherlock’s bedroom door open down the hall and Sherlock walking down the hall. He entered from the door behind John.

“Oh, hi John, didn’t hear you come in,” he said, leaning down and giving John a chaste kiss on the lips before walking over to the kettle. Still busy with the mugs in his hand, he continued, “Tea?”  
He turned around when John didn’t answer. John was staring at Sherlock with such a shocked and confused expression that Sherlock was immediately equally confused. He looked back at John, head tilted to one side and a wide-eyed worried look.  
“You kissed me,” John said, eventually.  
“I thought that’s what we were doing now,” looking apologetic but also confused, “you kissed me this morning.”  
“I know I did. I’ve been thinking about it all day. I thought you’d be upset, we’re not a couple after all.”  
“We’re a couple in all but name. We live together, we share finances and we even say we love each other,” Sherlock said matter-of-factly, “and then you kissed me.”  
“I’m not gay, though,” said John, a touch of desperation in his voice.  
“I know you’ve previously shown interest in women, John, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t bisexual,” but Sherlock, suddenly aware of his vulnerability, continued making tea, hiding his face from John’s, “if it was a mistake, we can just forget it happened, continue as we always have.”  
This is what John had decided was the ideal outcome earlier today but as he sat at the kitchen table they’d shared countless meals on, he felt a sudden wave of sadness at the thought of never kissing such a beautiful man again. John stood up but he wasn’t sure why.  
“No, it wasn’t a mistake. Well it was, but I don’t regret it,” said John, at which point Sherlock turned back around, before John continued, “Are you gay?”  
“Yes I’m gay John,” amused at even being asked.  
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” said John quietly and after a long pause, “I love you.”  
Sherlock stepped towards him, and recognising the other man’s hesitation, took the lead.  
“I love you too,” Sherlock replied, before closing the distance between them and kissing him again, softly but with certainty.  
John understood everything all at once. The feelings were overwhelming, and John felt his eyes prickle with unshed tears. He felt like he could faint. Instead, he placed his hands on Sherlock’s shoulders and kissed him again. The boiled kettle clicked behind them.  
“Tea?” asked Sherlock again, his forehead still pressed against John’s.  
“Yeah go on," smiling widely and watching the man he loved cross the kitchen they shared.

**Author's Note:**

> I live for your comments  
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